Nico Goes to Hogwarts
by vampire13eb
Summary: This is a story I've begun writing, but I want to see if people will read it. This is the first chapter, and any and all reviews are appreciated. Pretty much it's Nico going to Hogwarts to hunt Horcruxes, and it takes place in The OotP. Rated T for violence, swearing, and Nico di Angelo in general. Tell me what you think, honestly. And if you spot any mistakes, tell me, please.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Third Person

It was dinnertime at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Suddenly, the loud chatter was interrupted by the doors to the Great Hall banging open and a person entering. This person was a tall, lean looking teenage boy of about fifteen with shoulder length black hair and eyes so dark they resembled abysses. He wore a black t-shirt with dancing skeletons on it, with black jeans, a chain belt and a worn out brown aviators jacket with scuffed up black combat boots. He walked down the aisle between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, his stride was graceful yet full of purpose. He stopped in front of Dumbledore's seat at the staff table.

"Albus Dumbledore?" the boy asked; his voice was strange, quiet and as smooth as velvet. The headmaster looked at the boy with thinly veiled curiosity, as the boy reached into his jacket and pulled something out. He leaned over the table and slid the thing towards Dumbledore. Dumbledore picked up the object, which turned out to be a letter.

"I suggest you read that now, _Professor_," the boy said, his voice low and urgent, turning a bit mocking as he said "professor." The headmaster consented and ripped open the letter.

Albus Dumbledore 

The letter read:

_Dear Mr. Dumbledore,_

_If you are reading this, then my son must have done his job correctly. I have been informed of your current position in your war, and I have decided to send you help in order to lower the amount of paperwork from all the casualties that are to come and could be prevented. On an opposite note, Tom Riddle has escaped Death for far too long, and I will not stand for mere mortals to mock the balance between life and the afterlife as he does. My son, Nico di Angelo, is there to make sure that he does not elude my capture again. Allow him to help and do not interfere with his Quest, which he will explain to you as he sees fit._

_Signed,_

Hades

_Hades_

_God of the Dead, God of Wealth, Lord of the Underworld_

Nico di Angelo

Nico waited impatiently for the old coot to finish reading.

"I demand to know your business here, young man," a stout, ugly, toad-like woman garbed in a hideous pink cardigan demanded of him in an impossibly sweet, squeaky voice that made him want to puke just at the sound of it.

"My task is of no concern to you, _Ma'am_," Nico replied. He could tell his voice, again, held that polite taunting that he was known for at home, the voice that challenged whomever he was speaking to of their position or authority.

"On the contrary, Mr.-" the woman looked at him for a name, and flushed an angry prune colour when he stayed silent, quietly smirking at her, before she started talking again, much to Nico's chagrin.

"It is very much so my concern. As High Inquisitor of Hogwarts-" Nico cut her off, sounding almost impossibly bored.

"Yes, well, you see, my business is with the headmaster, not the High Inquisitor, I'm afraid," Nico said, and the pink lady swelled up in anger.

"Just who do you think you are?" she screeched. Nico grinned sinisterly, all boredom gone.

"I'm your worst nightmare," he declared in a deadly voice barely above a whisper, sending out a pulse of Fear and Death so powerful that even the most menacing looking kids in the hall – all conveniently wearing green – quailed at the feeling. The woman's eyes widened, and despite her fear, yet again opened her large, frog-like mouth to talk. Nico almost groaned. Just then, Dumbledore (who seemed impervious to his Death pulse) looked up from the letter.

"Very well, Mr. di Angelo, we will speak-"

"Now; we will speak now," Nico interjected quietly but forcefully, his tone leaving no room for argument. He could faintly hear the gasps from the students when he interrupted their headmaster. Seriously, these people were idiots. Dumbledore nodded somewhat gravely, and stood up from his seat. He led Nico towards a door that presumably led off of the hall. Once the door was closed, the old man turned to Nico.

"What is your Quest, Mr. di Angelo?" Dumbledore asked, staring at him intensely. Nico didn't want his total Quest to be revealed just yet. He looked at the headmaster defiantly.

"I must aid you in your war, being a veteran of two wars myself," Nico chose his words carefully. The old man looked shocked, and Nico slyly poked into his mind; a talent he had learned from his father.

_How could a boy who couldn't be over the age of sixteen have participated in two wars and lived? Let alone come out of them with his sanity intact? _

Nico let the man's mind go. He wasn't fond of trespassing on other's privacy, so he didn't do it often. Even on weird old dudes with long facial hair.

"Is that all?" Dumbledore asked.

"For now," Nico replied, going to turn back to re-enter the hall, before Dumbledore called him back.

"Mr. di Angelo."

Nico paused, still facing the door.

"Yes?" he asked, his accented voice strained.

"If you are to stay, you will need lodging and the school rules state that if you are lodging on campus and under the age of eighteen, you will have to attend classes."

Nico turned sharply, somewhat – ok, let's not kid, _very_ – annoyed.

"What do you mean; I'll have to attend classes?" Nico asked, his voice (not to mention temper) rising. But Dumbledore looked at him placidly.

"It _is_ a school, Nico," Dumbledore said calmly, despite the death glare being sent his way via the son of Hades.

"_Don't_ call me that. Only friends and family are able to use my first name; and I'm _not_ here to _go to school_," he grit his teeth, his jaw clenching and unclenching. His hands slowly curled into shaking fists. The last time he went to school...was with _her_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok, so I forgot to put this on the first chapter, but it takes place after the war with Gaea. Also, I do not own Percy Jackson or Harry Potter (the characters or the series). I've decided to post Chapter 2, and I hope you like it. _Warning: Major trio bashing in this and rest of story! _**

Chapter 2:

Nico di Angelo

So that's how Nico ended up sitting on a tiny, rickety stool with a thousand-year-old hat on his head, being 'Sorted,' whatever that was. He really didn't care to find out. Nico sat there, bored out of his mind, when a nasally voice whispered in his ear.

_Impatient...dangerous...hmmmm, where to put you? Oh? A child of the gods...Hades, to be exact...how interesting...very powerful...can hold a grudge..._

Being a child of Hades required Nico to have complete control over his emotions – and more importantly, facial expressions – so Nico showed no shock at the talking hat. Upon hearing the thing start talking, Nico immediately put up his mental shields.

_You'll have to let me in eventually, Son of Death..._ the hat whispered as it prodded at his wards. But Nico was adamant.

_No._ He thought back forcefully.

_Hmmmm, then I'll be forced to sort you based off stereotypes and prejudices. How you're always viewed as dark and Goth, the loner who has no friends, no purpose in life..._ the hat trailed off. The hat was starting to piss him off.

_It'll have to be..._

"SLYTH-"

_You want my past? You want my background? Fine;_ Nico succumbed, letting down his shields and revealing the years of death, the bloody, devastating wars and the gruesome tasks from his father. Memories of him raising armies of skeletal dead soldiers, of being punished in the Fields after he'd angered his father, the outcome of the Second Giant War, all the bloodshed came pouring into his brain, and thus, into the hat. The hat was cut off by the overload of memories, thoughts, sights, and pasts. Everything was silent, when...

"AIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE! BLOOD! WAR! PAIN! DEATH, SO MUCH DEATH! ARMIES OF THE DEAD, BODIES PILED UP, SO MUCH LOSS! HOW ARE YOU STILL SANE? GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR, FOR GODS SAKES! ANYONE WHO COULD SURVIVE THAT IS GRYFFINDOR! GET ME OFF THIS WACKJOB'S HEAD!" the hat screamed to the hall, causing Nico to smirk. _Heh,_ Nico thought, _and you haven't even seen my memories of Father._ The hat was snatched off of his head; he stood up and faced Dumbledore, who motioned for him to go sit down at the table nearest to the West wall, all wearing red. The hall was silent as Nico made his way to the table full of red and gold. As he neared, he sent out another Death pulse and he saw someone at the table he was supposed to sit at feint.

"Wimp," Nico stated coolly. Immediately, three people sitting near the boy glared at him.

"Neville isn't a wimp!" a bushy-haired girl said venomously, and Nico raised an eyebrow. Instead of answering, Nico sat down across from the girl and her two friends, a ginger and a dude with glasses.

"If he's not a wimp, then what is he?" Nico questioned challengingly, leaning forwards, arms folded on the tabletop.

"He's a Gryffindor. He's brave and courageous, unlike you, intimidating the Sorting Hat to put you in this house, when you clearly belong with those slimy snakes." The ginger spoke up. Nico gazed at him, unimpressed.

"You do realize," Nico started frostily "that I have no idea what in my Father's Name you're going on about." He smirked as the ginger's ego was brought down a few notches.

"Yeah, well -" the ginger stuttered for a comeback. Nico sat back, satisfied.

"What he means to say, is that he's Ron Weasley, this is Hermione Granger, and I'm Harry Potter." The trio winced, waiting for something.

"Good for you," Nico said, uninterested. The trio deflated, he obviously didn't react the way they'd wanted.

"Don't you know who he is?" Bush-Beaver (honestly, her hair was a fucking rat's nest) asked.

"Should I?" Nico drawled.

"He's The-Boy-Who-Lived! He's faced off against You-Know-Who countless times, fought a basilisk -" Ginger started rambling.

"And I should care why?" Nico interrupted. Ginger and Bush-Beaver swelled in anger. _Gods_, Nico thought, _they_ clearly _worship the ground this kid walked on._

"Because -" Bush-Beaver (as Nico had now dubbed her) started, nearly sputtering.

"No, 'Mione, it's fine. I'm more than glad to have found someone not obsessed with a scar on my forehead," Glasses stated, and Nico internally snorted. People were still staring at Nico, and he sent them glares. He didn't like people who stared.

"So, where did you come from? Your accent sounds American, but not completely American," Bush-Beaver started in an I-Know-Everything voice.

"It's called a 'none-of-your-business' accent," Nico replied and she glowered at him. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb looked at Nico, aghast and impressed. Nico wasn't at all threatened. After all, he lived part-time with his Father, the king of Death glares.

"You don't have to be so rude," Bush-Beaver snapped and folded her arms. Nico then looked down at the piles of food, noticing no fire for sacrifices. Nico nearly groaned out loud. As he sat there, looking at all the students eating, his stomach practically snarled.

"...Aren' 'oo 'oing 'o ea'?" Ginger asked around a stuffed mouth. Nico glared at him.

"I can't, if you really must know," Nico said, looking at him with disgust as he chewed with his mouth open.

"What do you mean, you can't?" Bush-Beaver asked annoyingly. Nico was tempted to shut her up himself using a very physical means – including his fist coming in contact with her ever-moving jaw – but he figured his Father would not be too pleased with him. His Father also wouldn't be very merciful if he didn't do his sacrifice. As Nico looked at the food thoughtfully, an idea came to him. He quickly piled a huge amount of food onto his plate. He grinned devilishly as he conjured up a handful of midnight black Hellfire.

**Again, tell me what you think. :D Good, bad, errors, anything is helpful. **


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm getting yelled at to go do dishes, so, yeah. Thought I'd piss my folks off. Here's chap 3! Don't own anything. Thanks to all my reviewers. Love you all.**

Chapter 3:

Nico di Angelo

The reaction was instantaneous. Everyone's eyes snapped to him. He could faintly hear several girls scream, including a few of the Professors. He picked the best part of his meal, a large, juicy looking steak, and dropped it onto his open palm.

"_For Hades_," he muttered in Ancient Greek. He watched as the flames slowly ate up the meat. When the bone finally crumbled to ash, he quickly closed his fist, snuffing out the magical fire. Amid stares, he dug in, cutting the remainder of his meat meticulously.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ginger asked, his voice high and squeaky. Nico turned his attention to the "Golden" trio, as his inside sources informed him. What made them so Golden, Nico had no clue. A more appropriate name would be the "Annoying" trio, the "Stick-Their-Noses-Into-Everyone-Else's-Business" trio, the- okay, he was getting off track, blame the ADHD.

"The last time I checked, hell wasn't bloody," he replied coolly, before taking a bite of his food.

"But you burned food!" Ginger wailed, as if Nico had committed some huge crime.

"Your point?" Nico asked, his onyx eyes as flat and lifeless as his voice.

"That was food! You burned it!"

"We've established that," Nico was about to turn back to his dinner, when

"Was that _Hellfire_? But _everyone_ knows that Hellfire consumes everything it touches, it's worse than Feindfyre in terms of destruction! Only _really_ Dark wizards had the ability to summon it -" Bush-Beaver turned to Glasses and Ginger, explaining what Hellfire was. Nico rolled his eyes.

"I don't even think _You-Know-Who_ could conjure it!" the Beaver finished, casting him a worried glance. He smirked and wiggled his fingers at her sarcastically.

"How did you touch it without burning?" the Beaver-of-Bushiness asked, thoroughly ticking Nico off.

"Because he's a bloody Death Eater, 'Mione!" The Ginger Weasel exclaimed loudly. Nico looked at him, part disgusted, part amused.

"Eat Thanatos? No, I don't think he would be very appetizing."

"What do you mean, Thanatos? I think I've heard that name somewhere..." Beaver trailed off.

Hermione Granger

(Starting with Nico's introduction and Sorting)

"Ladies and gentlemen, Hogwarts will be joined for this year only by a...exchange student, from America. I expect that you will greet him warmly and help him get accustomed to how we do things around here at Hogwarts. I leave it to the prefects of his House to show him the way to the Common Room." Finishing with that, Dumbledore presented the Boy in Black. The Sorting Hat was placed in front of the school, and McGonagall called out loudly

"di Angelo, Nico." The boy, glaring at the headmaster, sat down gracefully on the stool. Everything he did seemed to be graceful, reminding Hermione of a panther or a cheetah. This boy held that same kind of deadly power. As the boy – Nico – faced the school, Hermione could hear many girls whispering excitedly (Lavender and Parvati included). As Hermione studied his facial features, she deducted that he was, in fact, attractive. If you overlooked the snarl twisting his lips and the glare he was setting on the headmaster, of course. He looked like he was of different ethnicity, either Spanish or Italian. His eyes were so dark you could have gotten lost in them easily. The Hat was set on his head and he sat there for almost a minute before the Hat started to call out

"SLYTH-" it yelled before it cut off.

A split second later, the Hat was screaming in horror, about blood and death and war. Nico was declared a Gryffindor, which only raised Hermione's curiosity, that burning desire to know everything about him, where he was from, what he did for a living, if he was good in school, why the Sorting Hat screamed when it was on his head. Then the kid sat down across from her, Ron and Harry, and revealed that he was a cocky prick. He had this holier-than-thou air about him; Hermione agreed with Ron. The new kid did remind her of a Slytherin, of Malfoy, only he hasn't called her a Mudblood, yet. And he used HELLFIRE! Despite what she told Harry and Ron, no wizard has ever gained control of Hellfire before, it burned them to crisps as soon as they succeeded in summoning it. So either he was an extremely Dark wizard – with a working knowledge of pyrokinesis – with power to even surpass Dumbledore or Voldemort, or he was something that no wizard could even dream of – something powerful and dangerous that could obliterate her kind. This thought worried her, as she liked her 'newfound' magic. And despite what Purebloods like Malfoy and Zabini said, she _did _deserve to study magic. And if this new kid had the ability alone to destroy her chances of proving that she was as much a witch as the next girl at Hogwarts, then Hermione wasn't going to stand for it.

"So, where in America are you from?" she tried to not let the bitterness seep out of her voice, trying to keep her tone light and inquisitive.

"I've lived all over. I've been to D.C., Vegas, L.A., New York City, San Francisco, and pretty much everywhere in between." His tone was smug – he had seen all these amazing places, and she hadn't, she'd lived in London her whole, dull life.

"Why did you barge in here? How did you get in? There are wards preventing unwanted intruders -" he cut her off, quite rudely.

"Yeah, well, I'm not really a law-abider. And as to why I'm here? You could call me a mercenary. I'm here on my Father's orders."

"Before, you used your father's name as a curse. Why?" Hermione asked, leaning forwards excitedly. She was filing away all of this information, for research purposes of course.

"Gods, what's with all the questions? Tell me, is this new-kid procedure, or were you just born nosy?" he asked her snidely, and she had to admit, it stung. She flushed red and sat back, looking down at her hands in embarrassment. She heard Harry and Ron jump to her defense, but Nico shot down their insults and threats immediately, replying with a quick, calculating wit that had she had never witnessed before. Ron and Harry backed off, and the rest of the meal was silent. As the trio exited the hall in the great bustle of the crowd, Hermione had lost sight of Nico. Fortunately or unfortunately, she didn't know yet. After a few seconds of looking, she found him, walking calmly through the mass of students, hardly being jostled. She grabbed hold of Ron and Harry and started steering them in his direction.

"We have to help him to the Common Room, Ronald," she snapped at Ron's protests. As they closed the distance, they saw a head of white-blond hair slam into the newest student.


	4. Chapter 4

**Ok, so I don't know if I'll be able to update tomorrow, so I'm posting chapter 4 today. If I can update tomorrow, well, then you'll get chapter 5 a day early. Thank you to all my wonderful readers and I'll try to reply to any/all questions to the best of my ability. I'm not J.K Rowling, or Rick Riordan, so I do not own either of these series. Hope you like it! **

Chapter 4:

Nico di Angelo

"Watch where you're going, filthy Mudblood!" the boy snarled at Nico, who stared at him intently.

"I'd say that _you_ should watch where _you're_ going, seeing as _you_ bumped into _me_," Nico's smooth voice carried, and ever so slowly, students started to form a mob around the two, excited at the prospect of a fight. The trio was at the front of the crowd, along with their fellow Gryffindors. The boy's faced curled up.

"Are you talking to me? I should give you a detention!" he cried, scoffing.

"Like I'd listen to you," Nico replied, a fiery glint in his eyes.

"My father will hear about this!" the boy's voice was threatening, but it didn't faze Nico.

"Oh, trust me. You _**do not**_ want to meet _my_ Father, weakling," Nico's voice was malicious.

"Why would I want to meet your stupid, Muggle father? You stupid Mudblood, your pathetic Muggle father is a slug compared to mine," the boy declared, and the people gathered gasped audibly. Now, Nico didn't know what 'Muggle' or 'Mudblood' meant, but he assumed they were insults. Nico didn't like insults. Especially concerning his family. He faintly felt the ground tremor; he knew his Father had heard this boy's speech.

He grabbed the kid by the front of his robes – gods, how behind were these wizards? – and hefted him into the air, looking deeply into his grey eyes, letting all the horror and anger flow from him into the kid, who's arrogant expression had turned to that of pure terror.

"DI ANGELO! Unhand Mr. Malfoy this instant! 20 points from Gryffindor!" a monotonous voice filled the hall over the chants of "FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" Nico's head snapped around and he caught sight of a man with long, greasy black hair and a large hooked nose. He let Malfoy go; the boy collapsed to the floor in a heap, shaking and muttering psychotically to himself. Nico sneered down at him, tempted to issue a swift, rib-cracking kick to the stupid kid, before decided against it and turning to the man.

"Is there a problem, sir?" Nico asked, eyeing the man distastefully.

"Roughhousing in the corridors and threatening students is prohibited!" The man barked, gliding through the crowd, before snapping at the remaining students.

"What are you all loitering for? Back to your Common Rooms before I take away points!" The crowd dispersed quickly, everybody leaving except for the trio.

"Mr. di Angelo, Mr. Malfoy, the Headmasters office, now!" the man snapped. Nico didn't like that this man knew his name.

"Professor Snape? We were supposed to take Nico to the Common Room," Bushy-Beaver butted in. She either ignored or didn't see Nico glare at her for using his name. 'Professor Snape' sneered at her.

"Very well. Follow me," he said emotionlessly. They followed without complaint. _The arrogant fool,_ Nico thought, _trying to order me around! If he knew who my family was..._ Nico's thoughts trailed off, a small, sinister smirk appearing on his lips. They ended up in front of a large stone Gargoyle on the fifth floor.

"Fizzing Wizzbees." The man said dully, and the Gargoyle sprung to life, moving aside to reveal a spiral staircase. Seriously?_Are these wizards_aware _that everything around here is_completely, 100% obvious? Nico thought irritably as the 'Professor' led them up to a door. Before the man could even knock, the old coot's voice called

"Come in." The man opened the door and sneered at Nico as he passed into the room.

"Mr. di Angelo? Visiting me so soon?" Dumbledore asked upon seeing him file in.

"Headmaster, the new student was causing a disturbance in the Entrance Hall, physically threatening Mr. Malfoy, here." 'Malfoy' was still shaking; his eyes wide and crazed, but he had stopped mumbling at least. Dumbledore turned his eyes on Nico.

"Mr. di Angelo? An explanation, if you please?" the old man demanded on him. The corners of Nico's lips tightened.

"He insulted my parentage." Nico looked sternly at the man.

"Ah." Dumbledore responded, much to the shock of the room's other occupants.

"Albus, the boy threatened a student. Surely, that's grounds for expulsion?" the Snape man asked, a bit too hopefully.

"Severus, let's not be rash. The boy just got here. Besides, I assume they respond to insults... differently... in America? Am I correct, Mr. di Angelo?" Dumbledore asked. Nico nodded curtly. _Yeah, if you're Ares or his brood,_ he thought.

"They respond with acts of violence? Barbaric Neanderthals," Snape muttered under his breath, yet Nico still heard.

"I'm sorry, what was that Professor? Could you speak up a bit? I couldn't quite understand you," Nico smirked as the man's face turned the colour of sour milk.

"I said nothing, boy," the man hissed.

"Mr. Malfoy, are you alright?" Dumbledore asked, turning to said person. He had stopped trembling so hard and his eyes had cleared up.

"I-I'm I-I-I-I-I..." he stuttered off, unable to form a complete sentence. Nico smirked triumphantly. That'll show him to insult Nico's family.

"Severus, could you kindly escort Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing? I would like to speak to Mr. di Angelo in private." Snape sneered and took Malfoy by the shoulder and almost dragged him out of the room.

"Now, Mr. di Angelo -" Dumbledore started, before the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted him.

"Miss. Granger, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter. What are you three doing here?" Dumbledore seemed like he knew the answer to his own question.

"We were supposed to show Nico -" cue Death glare "- to the Common Room, Professor," Bush-Beaver said, trying to avoid the old man's gaze. Nico internally snorted.

"Well, I'm sure that Mr. di Anglo is more than capable of finding it himself. If you could just give him the password, then head to your dorms that would be greatly appreciated." The three looked scandalized, like they weren't used to being told they weren't allowed in on an important conversation. Weasel spoke up, not looking pleased with sharing covert information with him.

"The password's Mimbulus Mimbletonia." Then the three of them turned and left abruptly.

Dumbledore turned to Nico.

"Mr. di Angelo. I've gotten another letter, from your Father. He alerted me of certain disabilities that hinder your learning process, as well as make you a danger to this school..."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 for you. Hope you like it. Very short chapter, sorry. I do not own anything that you recognize. Thanks to everyone who follows this story, it really means a lot. I really like to hear from you. I think you know how to leave questions and comments, right?:D**

Chapter 5:

Nico di Angelo

"You mean the ADHD and Dyslexia. Or is it the necromancy and Hellfire?" Nico said offhandedly. The old man looked relatively startled.

"Yes. I am aware of a charm that translates text into whichever language the reader comprehends the most, and as for your battle training, you will have to figure that out on your own, I'm afraid. I will ask that you refrain from raising the dead on campus," Dumbledore said. Nico was resigned to nodding surly.

"You may leave once we're finished speaking. Your translated course books are already in your room. If you get lost on your way to the Common Room, I'm sure one of the ghosts would be delighted to be of assistance."

Nico froze, a steely, furious glint appearing in his eyes.

"Did you say 'ghosts'?" he asked dangerously. The old coot looked slightly alarmed at his change of attitude.

"Is there a problem, Mr. di Angelo?"

"How dare they escape me? How many of these...abominations are there on the premises?" Nico barked out, glaring at nothing in particular. Rage seared through his veins. Stupid, ungrateful souls who think they could elude _him_, the King of Ghosts!

"There are over one hundred, Mr. di Angelo. Why is this of any concern?" Nico almost screamed then and there.

"And their just...roaming free? Unattended? Undisciplined?" Nico ground out, mostly to himself.

"Yes, I believe that they -" the old man didn't get the chance to finish. Nico had already stormed out and was thirsty for blood. Once he exited the office, he stormed up the hallway and into an empty room. He sent out a furious scream in Ancient Greek, a summons so strong it would pull any ghost within a hundred mile radius to him.

"_COME TO ME!_" he bellowed. After a few seconds, the room was flooded with whimpering ghosts, kneeling at his feet and begging for mercy. Nico face twisted in disgust.

"Get up! Get up you lazy, cowardly, disgusting excuses of ectoplasm!" Nico snapped, and the ghosts tripped over themselves to stand.

"I should send you all to the Fields for this treason!"

"P-P-Please, m-my lord, my liege, w-w-we're terribly s-sorry, s-so terribly s-sorry. We s-simply d-didn't w-want -" a ghost with what must have been brown hair and a small, pointed nose spoke up timidly. Nico's eyes blurred with rage.

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU WANT! You dare defy the Ancient Laws by staying here! Begone!" Nico glared at the spectre. By his own force of will, a fissure appeared in the ground and swallowed up the impertinent ghost. The others looked on in fear. Nico glowered at them.

"One of you tell me the directions to the Gryffindor Common Room." He demanded coldly.

A ghost in a leotard and ruffles stepped forwards.

"The entrance is on the seventh floor, behind an oil portrait of a fat lady in a pink gown." The man stuttered nervously.

"I will spare you, for now. Now leave!" He hissed in Ancient Greek, and the ghosts dispersed. Nico sighed resignedly, as he Shadow Travelled to the seventh floor.

Third Person

What Nico didn't see was the elderly man almost invisible in the corner of the room, watching the entire scene in horror.

Albus Dumbledore

Albus Dumbledore quickly returned to his office. He had followed the boy to finish their conversation, and what he had found left him cold inside. Albus sat at his desk and picked up Hades' second letter.

_Dear Mr. Dumbledore,_

_Seeing as you are most likely forcing my son to remain at your school, I felt like it would be prudent as to alert you to my son's abilities in order to prepare you for the damage that is to occur if he is crossed negatively. My son is one of the most powerful of his kind in the world at this moment. He, along with the majority of his kind, has Attention Deficient Hyperactivity Disorder, Dyslexia, and expert battle skills. A list of his abilities as my son is as follows:_

_Geokinesis_

_Umbrakinesis_

_Necromancy_

_Sensitivity to Death_

_Life Aura_

_Shadow Travel_

_Induced Fear_

_Death Trance_

_Hellfire_

_Death Pulse_

_Mentis Lectionem_

_Imperium__S__apiunt_

_I do not feel the need to explain each of the above listed. I trust that you will leave my son be and allow him to complete his task. Otherwise, you will have to answer to me._

_Signed, _

Hades

_Hades_

_God of the Dead, God of Wealth, Lord of the Underworld_

Dumbledore read through the list of 'abilities' three times, trying to figure out the meanings. The 3rd, 7th, and 9th were pretty self explanatory, but the rest... Dumbledore was stumped. He sat there for hours more, trying to decipher the mystery that was Nico di Angelo.


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's chapter 6. I had a lot of trouble with Ron's POV, so I'm sorry if it's not very good. I'm not J.K Rowling or Rick Riordan, so, I don't own the books. I appreciate all reviews and support I get on this story.**

Chapter 6:

Ron Weasley

Ron followed his friends through the all-too-familiar corridors. They eventually reached the Common Room and entered, to see the new Goth kid lounging on their

couch. THEIR couch! _That no-good American Death Eater!_ Ron fumed internally. A wave of rashness came over him, and he stormed over to the new kid. The kid

looked up at him as he approached, and Ron's bravery quailed under that intense, furious look, those black eyes glimmering like a madman's. Ron tried to gather his

wits and _not_ gulp visibly.

"Why did you do that?!" Ron asked angrily.

"Do what? Defend my family? I'm _terribly_ sorry. Was the blond ferret your friend? Or... was he a relative? I think Annabeth's mentioned that ferrets were the cousins

of the weasels," the boy asked, nonchalant and musing and not at all apologetic. His face made him seem bored and uninterested. Ron was vaguely aware that he'd

made a sort of angry squawk of outrage.

"I'M NOT FRIENDS WITH THAT WANNABE DEATH EATER AND I AM NOT A WEASEL!" he exclaimed loudly.

"Mmmmmhmmmm, of _course_ you're not," the boy said, in a disbelieving tone, looking at him tauntingly, a slight smirk forming on the corner of his mouth, before it

melted back to his former expression. Ron gaped at him in horror. He racked his brain for an insult.

"If anything, you're the Death Eater!" He declared finally, and the boy sighed heavily, his mouth a straight line, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his

nose, sounding exasperated and exhausted.

"Again with the eating of Thanatos. Get it through your head: I am not a cannibal!" the boy said, thoroughly confusing Ron.

"Who's Annabeth?" Hermione interrupted, coming up beside him along with Harry.

"Why do you want to know?" the boy asked, bored.

"She's probably just another one of his Death Eater buddies," Ron sneered at the kid, who's bored expression didn't waver.

"Actually, she's my soon-to-be cousin-in-law, if you _must_ know," the boy informed them, not like it mattered to Ron.

Harry Potter

Ron had the brilliant idea of 'interrogating' an already livid-looking di Angelo. Harry and Hermione followed him reluctantly. Harry didn't know what to think of the

new kid yet. _I mean, he hasn't even been here 24 hours and he's done a bunch of suspicious things,_ Harry thought, though he tried to keep a open mind, he didn't

want to jump to conclusions. _Although, di Angelo had tried to intimidate Dumbledore..._ Harry had felt the nonverbal threats hanging in the air during the American's

encounter with the headmaster in his office.

Speaking of which, why did this random American show up out of nowhere in the middle of the school year, then act like he was better than everyone? And what was

that thing with Malfoy? The Slytherin had looked traumatized, and all di Angelo had done was pick him up and glare at him. Either it was a truly terrifying glare, or

Malfoy was a _really_ big coward.

"C'mon, Ron, Hermione," Harry said, before nodding his head towards the boys' staircase. They followed him up, until they gathered in their dorm.

"There's something wrong with that kid! I am NOT a weasel!" Ron burst out. Hermione shot him a look.

"Ronald! That was rude!" she snapped. Ron bristled visibly.

"Who's side are you on, anyways, Hermione? Just because you fancy the bloke..." Ron added lowly. Hermione's eyes blazed.

"EXCUSE me? I do not! And I would _never_ choose a _stranger_ over my _best friends_!"

"Are you sure about that? Because you haven't shut up about him since he's got here -"

"Which was four hours ago! EVERYBODY'S been talking about him!" Hermione swelled up, before dashing out of the room. Harry frowned at Ron.

"What?" the latter asked, oblivious to the damage he'd just caused.

Nico di Angelo

Nico took to his room, a fair-sized dorm that greatly resembled his room in the Underworld. It was dark and that was all Nico cared about. He quickly started about

setting up his supplies, grabbing his backpack from the shadows. He removed the contraptions from his pack and went about setting the security measures about the

room. 10 minutes later, he was double checking his work. The Greek fire jars were in position to detonate at the door upon opening, which had no stopping

mechanism, seeing as he didn't need to use the door. _Thank the gods for Shadow Travel,_ Nico mused as he walked over to the dresser. He knelt down in front of it,

eye level with the top drawer. He gently opened it, careful to not trigger the zillions of tiny metal spiders that would flood out and attack the intruder. A very amusing

story from his cousin and the Hephaestus cabin were responsible for this trap. He closed the door in an equally gentle manner, before moving onto the bed frame.

Once making sure the currant of high voltage electricity was running over the sleek wood properly, he moved onto the mirror. He stroked the frame almost lovingly,

and the metal gave way to a continuously-looping Iris Message straight to the heart of his Father's Fields. Nico winced slightly, looking at all of the torturous things

that were being displayed. He moved onto the window, moving the sunlight-absorbing curtains slightly, not enough to trigger the rocket launcher loaded with

Manticore spikes. Nico chuckled darkly. He had his old VP to thank for the inspiration for this trap. He got down on his stomach, and concentrated on the stone in the

middle of the floor. It was slightly raised, not enough to be seen if one was standing. If pressed, it would transport the person(s) on it straight to Hades' dungeons,

and then return them in a few days. How they survived was their problem. If they broke in here, Nico had no mercy to offer them. As he sat down against the wall,

ready to relax and possibly sleep, he sensed a presence outside of his door. Suspecting the worst, Nico grabbed his Stygian Iron sword from the shadows; along with

a couple daggers which he hid on his person before he swiftly Shadow Traveled into the hall.

**Thanks for reading!**


	7. Author's Note

Author's Note:

OK, I'm sorry if you thought this was an update, but I'm going to be extremely busy for the next couple of days. I'm going to visit my four-year-old cousin tomorrow at my grandparent's camp to entertain her for the day, and staying there tomorrow night. I might get it free to the movies to see The Sea of Monsters on Thursday (OMG IT COMES OUT TOMOROW! AHHHHH! I AM SO EXCITED!) cuz my friend works there. And I'm bust writing Chapter 9 for you guys. I know you've only read the first – what? 6? – chapters, but I like to be a few chapters ahead so I can give you guys answers to questions. So, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I'll try to update Thursday or Friday, depends on my business level and the state of Chap 9. I love all my readers and reviewers and followers and everyone who supports this story. Crap, now I'm getting emotional. Why can't I be a vampire and turn off my humanity? (The Vampire Diaries reference (Season 5 starts Thursday October 3rd on the CW from 8:00pm to 9:00 pm...cannot wait!) Haha, sorry, off topic. Anywhoo, hopefully this will be one of the few Author's Notes on this story, so you won't have to deal with me so much, and can just focus on Nico and his awesomeness. And now I'm rambling. I blame Hera. And my fatigue.

Ok, I solemnly swear that I will update within the next few days. I hope people actually read this.

- vampire13eb (but you can call me Emma;)


	8. Chapter 7

**Ok, here's chapter 7! Now, I was reading the reviews - which I LOVE by the way - and I've gotten the impression that people think it's Ron at Nico's door. Maybe this is just because I know who it is, but I found this hilarious. Because (SPOLIER ALERT) it isn't Ron. Read on and see.**

**Another thing - I re-read my Author's Note and saw so many errors it was embarrassing. But I wrote it quickly and my keyboard sometimes doesn't show up if I press a key. So, it's my laptop's fault. Anyways, without further ado, the feature presentation, chapter 7!:D Hope you like. Love all my followers/supporters and this note is waaaaaay too long, sooooooo...:D **

Chapter 7:

Hermione Granger

_How dare Ron!_ Hermione thought as she threw herself down on her bed, hot, angry tears streaming down her cheeks. She did _not_ care for the new American

transfer. No, she merely wanted to know about him, to satisfy her curiosity. To find out if he was a danger to herself or her loved ones. She wanted to find

out if he threatened her world. Her precious world of magic and wonder, her world of things new and exciting and so completely foreign; that had initially felt

like a dream to her fickle 11-year-old self all those years ago. She had to have knowledge in order to protect her world, and knowledge was what she was

trying to acquire from her new classmate. She sat up on her bed, furiously wiping at her eyes to clear them. She _had_ to know about him. Ron be damned, he

couldn't dictate her life. What did she care if he disapproved of her wanting to find out more about the new, darkly handsome American? This was a matter of

life and death to her, as everything was to your normal teenage girl. Though Hermione was not your typical 16-year-old; seeing that she loved reading and

education, and had an insatiable thirst for knowledge which should have guaranteed her a spot in Ravenclaw. That insatiable thirst is what caused her to get

up and leave her room, head down the girls' staircase and up the boys', her intent not to reconcile with her best friend, but to relieve herself of the burden on

not-knowing. She came to a midnight black door with strange letters on it, forming words Hermione couldn't understand. Underneath the symbols was the

name 'Nico di Angelo' in curvy, immaculate silver handwriting. She knocked tentatively. No answer. She knocked harder, still no answer. Hermione was about

to try the knob, when a coolly collected voice behind her quipped.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Hermione turned in surprise. There, standing in front of her was the one and only Nico di Angelo.

"And why shouldn't I?" Hermione asked somewhat snobbishly.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he retorted, his black eyes boring into her chocolate brown ones. He towered over her menacingly, trying to intimidate her. _And _

_succeeding,_ Hermione thought, rattled to her core. But she had to know, and that feeling was what was keeping her rooted to the spot.

"Why are you here?" Hermione asked bravely.

"I told you already. I'm a mercenary." He said, unwavering. Hermione wanted to scoff. Instead she said

"A mercenary is '_a person who takes part in an armed conflict, who is not a national or a party to the conflict and is motivated to take part in the hostilities _

_essentially by the desire for private gain and, in fact, is promised, by or on behalf of a party to the conflict, material compensation substantially in excess of _

_that promised or paid to combatants of similar ranks and functions in the armed forces of that Party.'_ So, I don't know why you're here, and I highly doubt

you're a soldier, or, if you were, that you'd be needed. We're not at war."

"But you will be. And when you are, you'll be grateful for my help." He said, before he turned and disappeared into the shadows. Hermione's eyes widened.

How did he do that? Surely it was extremely Dark magic? Or was it something else besides magic, yet equally evil? Hermione turned and fled down the stairs

towards Ron and Harry's room.

Nico di Angelo

_Gods, that girl was annoying,_ Nico thought, irritated. When he'd seen that she was all that his threat was – a measly, weak little witch – he'd had half the

mind to let her open the door and set off his security. But, because it would have been a pain to reset it all, Nico stopped her. Nico Shadow Travelled down to

the main room, keeping to the shadows when he saw a figure there. He sat in a chair of solidified darkness, as he thought about getting a move on in his

Quest. Despite the late hour, he wasn't tired. He didn't need sleep to function. Whenever he tried, he had nightmares of the wars, of being trapped in that

stupid jar, of Tartarus. So no, sleep was out of the option. Deciding to use the slumbering castle to his advantage, he stood up and Shadow Travelled into the

hall.

"I suppose you want in. Password?" the portrait guard asked groggily. Nico sneered at her and sauntered down the hall in the opposite direction and around

the corner. Once there, he stopped, willing himself to blend with the darkness. Nico allowed his senses to open, mentally scanning the campus for a Horcrux,

seeing as that was what he was here hunting in the first place. Bits of a ripped soul, or a 'Horcrux,' were a way for magical people to gain pseudo immortality.

They could not die as long as their Horcrux was intact, as it held a piece of their soul. But Tom Riddle, the power-hungry fool he was, decided to stupidly

make seven of these abominations. The man just loved to make a fool of their father. Nico suddenly felt a cold, empty, broken piece of a soul, full of

malicious intent somewhere on the same floor as him. He set off quietly, following his internal GPS. He turned down a deserted hall and stopped short in front

of a brick wall near a painting of a guy trying to teach what looked like ogres to do ballet. The soul was coming from this wall. _Or it could be coming from _

_behind it..._ Nico mused. _What should I do? Smash through the wall?_ Nico pursed his lips in frustration, breathing out with difficulty. He paced the length of

the hall, staring at the wall for another forty-five minutes. Feeling restless, Nico decided to Shadow Travel to the main tower room. He materialised in the dim

ember light from the fire. Too late, he remembered the person he'd seen in the room earlier. He spun to see a tall, strong looking boy with dark skin and

curly hair.

"You're Nico, right?" Nico glared at the kid.

"What's it to you?" Nico asked venomously.

"Nothing, I was just asking," the kid said, raising his hands in surrender.

"I'm Dean, by the way. Nice to meet you," the kid held out his hand in Nico's direction. Nico looked at it cautiously. Dean noticed the hesitation.

"I don't bite, you know," he said, grinning slightly.

"And I'm supposed to trust you?" Nico asked, not moving an inch.

"Yes," Dean said, still grinning. Nico made a noise of disapproval, but shook Dean's hand anyway.

"So, where'd you come from?" Dean asked, catching Nico off guard.

"What?" Nico asked incredulously, thinking the boy was questioning him on his means of travel.

"Where in America are you from?" Dean elaborated.

"Well, my Father's...Greek and my mother was Italian, but my sister and I lived all over the Sates. Some time in DC, some time in Maine, a few years in

Vegas," Nico said shortly.

"Was?" Dean asked. _Oκατά (Shit)__,_ Nico swore internally, _he caught on._

"My mom died when I was little, I don't really remember her that much," Nico revealed.

"Oh. I know how you feel, my father died when I was four, after leaving my mother and I." Dean said. They were quiet for a bit, then

"What about your sister?" Dean asked.

"What do you mean?" Nico asked harshly.

"Why are you here but not her?" Dean asked.

"She died when I was 10. I was at camp at the time. Never even got to tell her that I loved her," Nico said, void of any emotion. Dean looked at him sadly.

"I'm sorry. Well, I'm going to bed. G'night, Nico," Dean said pleasantly, before turning to go up the stairs.

"Dean, wait," Nico said and grabbed Dean's arm.

"You didn't see me here; all you remember is going to bed and waking up down here." Nico said, snapping his fingers. Dean's eyes glazed over and he

promptly turned, heading up to his room. Nico nodded, watching him leave, before Shadow Travelling to his room and pulling out a book to tide him until the

sunrise.


	9. Chapter 8

**Ok, here's chapter 8. I am extremely sorry for the wait, but I'm terribly busy. My mom went away for a few days on a trip and I had to stay at a **

**friend's house. Tomorrow we are going to see The Sea of Monsters in 3D, and I cannot wait, so I decided to update for you in my excitement. I love **

**all my supporters to pieces and your reviews make my day. Also, I would like to ask that if anybody has a question, could you sign in (if you have an **

**account of course) to ask it? It just makes it easier to reply so that you'll actually get your answers. Thanks!:D **

Chapter 8:

Nico di Angelo

He put down 'Raising the Dead for Dummies' – a Christmas present Percy thought would be hilarious to get for him – as a midnight black raven landed on his knee. It

cawed and stuck out its leg. Nico saw a pitch black envelope attached to the bird, with 'Nico' written on the front in Ancient Greek. He opened it as the raven flew

away, into the shadows. _Probably going back to Father,_ Nico thought. Inside the envelope was a business-like card with three words on it in Greek.

_Don't Be Stupid._

That was it. Don't be stupid. Nico frowned at the card_. _He wasn't being stupid. Nobody had seen him Shadow Travel, well, except for Dean, but he had manipulated

the Mist. Nobody had seen his weapons or his outburst with the ghosts. Nico leaned back against the stone wall. He was sitting on the floor, across from his dresser

and bed. He wasn't tired, but he would need something to keep him going for the day. Coffee or Ambrosia would do the trick. He stood up and stretched, feeling his

back pop. He quickly showered and changed into a new pair of jeans and a Bon Jovi 1983 Madison Square Garden t-shirt. Add his jacket, belt, and boots and he was

ready for the day. He mentally scanned for life outside his door, and, finding none, he Shadow Travelled out into the hall. He walked down the stairs to see a

poltergeist bobbing along the ceiling. The damn ghost was bouncing Nico's last gift from his late sister on his knee like a soccer ball. Rage bubbled up inside Nico, his

vision stained red as he marched over to the upstart spirit. He stopped underneath the ghost, looking up at it in fury. He cleared his throat audibly. The ghost looked

down, not seeming to recognise him. The clown-man cackled and went to swoop down, most likely to harass him, but when he got close enough to see Nico, his face

turned even more translucent than it already was, as it backpedalling rapidly.

"M-My lord! I-I did n-not see you t-there!" the poltergeist stuttered, keeping the Hades figurine aloft as he wrung his hands. However, Nico wasn't paying attention to

the grovelling spirit, his gaze and focus was trained on the figurine.

"_Where_ did you get that?" Nico ground out harshly, staring intently as the figurine bobbed along with the movements the ghost used to stay afloat.

"M-Master, O-Old Peevsie's just f-found the statue in the room of a-a new stud-dent, m-my king," 'Peevsie' sputtered out.

"And it didn't occur to you that this _new student_ may be me?" Nico asked lowly, looking murderous. Nico was sure that if it were possible, the poltergeist would be

sweating nervously.

"N-No, sir, it did not." Nico scowled angrily, as the ghost flinched.

"Put it down," Nico ordered darkly. The ghost gulped and set the statue down gently on a nearby table, before it suddenly made a move to run in the opposite

direction than its King. Nico growled impatiently, and made a gesture as if he was beckoning someone to come closer. The ghost froze and turned jerkily around to

face Nico. The ghost seemed to be forced by an invisible hand down to his knees, so that he was floating a few inches off of the floor.

"P-P-Please, M-Master, I-I was only h-having a bit o-of f-f-fun," the little man wept, and Nico could almost imagine the ghost crying.

"Then why do you look so...distraught? Shouldn't you be _happy _you were _'having a bit of fun'_?" Paired with the cruel smirk twisting his lips, there was a mock

condescending tone to Nico's voice. He was feeling malicious and reckless. He wanted to toy with this spirit until it begged for his forgiveness. Unfortunately for it,

Nico had little tolerance for those who angered him. This bothersome spirit had achieved just that. The ghost stayed silent.

"Well? Answer me!" Nico barked out, feeling a sadistic sense of humor spreading through him.

"Y-Yes?" the man stammered.

"Yes...what? What are you agreeing with?" Nico asked calmly, much more calmly then he felt.

"Look at me!" Nico ordered, and the disgusting ghost looked up into his face, seeming unsure of itself.

"Yes, I-I should be happy that I was hav-ving fun?" it said, phrasing his answer as a question.

"And are you?" Nico asked, gazing down at it balefully with cold, taunting eyes. Nico could tell the spirit was getting confused, and he hid his grin. One down.

"Y-Yes? Yes. Yes, I am happy, my lord! Thank yo-" the ghost exclaimed somewhat loudly, grinning excitedly. Nico cut it off.

"Wrong answer." The ghost looked petrified. It tried to run again. Nico, now livid, stopped the ghost before it could go anywhere.

"Please! Please, don't! Nooooo! NOOOOO!" the ghost screamed in terror as Nico chuckled darkly, relishing in this feeling of pure, raw adrenaline that came with

torturing someone who deserved it. And yes, he knew from experience.

Hermione Granger

Hermione was up early, as per usual, preparing for her busy day of classes. She was tiptoeing around her bed, gathering her books and stacking them in her bag

carefully. History of Magic, check; Potions, check; Herbology, check; Defence Against the Dark Arts, check; Ancient Runes, check. She just needed her Arithmancy

textbook and she'd be good to go. _Where is it?_ She asked herself mentally, grilling her brain on all possible places the book could be...The Common Room. She'd left

it in the Common Room. She grabbed her robes and started down the stairs. A quarter of the way down, Hermione was met with the sound of horrifying, agonisingly

painful screams. She crept down some more to see the new kid standing there, glaring at Peeves, as the poltergeist screamed in absolute anguish. Aghast, Hermione

fled down the remainder of the stairs, intending to stop this madman.


	10. Chapter 9

**Oh, my, gods, I am sooo sorry. I've been wanting to post this for weeks, but I've been procrastinating. School started today, and I already had a ton of **

**homework. So, I'm publishing chapter 9 because I don't know when I'll be able to a) finish chapter 10, and b) publish chapter 10. I've also hit a huge **

**writer's block, and my friend who usually helps me out with this kinda thing is reading another story and refuses to read another until she's finished it. So I **

**honestly no idea when I'll talk to you all next. Hope this'll sate you until then. Remember, reviews help me overcome writer's block! :D**

**~Emma **

Chapter 9:

Nico di Angelo

"STOP; stop this, this instant!" Nico's concentration on the ghost was interrupted, and the ghost stopped screaming. As his head snapped around, he spied the Bush-Beaver.

Pursing his lips, Nico turning fully to face her; all of his concentration on torturing the poltergeist gone. Well, not quite. He knew what the ghost would attempt, and it

wouldn't work. Not against him, at least.

"Don't even think about it." Nico's voice oozed power, and he knew that the ghost had frozen in its tracks, not daring to move an inch until told otherwise. Then Nico focused

on a fuming Beaver.

"Can I help you?" he asked coldly, thoroughly annoyed.

"What are you _doing_?" she cried out, looking panicked. Nico gazed down at her impassively.

"I'm teaching this _impertinent_ ghoul a lesson." He replied smoothly, looking at her with obsidian eyes.

"B-But you'll hurt him," she said, somewhat calmer, though it sounded forced and fake. For some godsforsaken reason, the Beaver was trying to save the stupid ghost. Nico

raised an eyebrow in a condescending manner.

"And it matters to you what happens to this soul?" he questioned, sensing a trick.

"Y-yes," she stuttered unconvincingly. Nico gave a short, humourless laugh.

"Do not lie to me, Granger. I don't take kindly to liars." His eyes glinted dangerously. He could tell she was nervous, and he internally smirked.

"If that's all, Granger, could you leave? I have some unfinished business to attend to," Nico said, making a sort of shooing motion with his hands, before turning back to the

poltergeist, glaring fiercely. The spirit of the clown was frozen in a running position, looking as if he was about to chase something, or to flee for his afterlife. Terror marred

his impish features, but Nico was unsatisfied. The poltergeist deserved nothing less than the depths of Tartarus for the rest of its afterlife for defiling Nico's last connection to

_her_. To Bianca; to his big sister, who'd protected him from bullies and who had tucked him in at night and – Nico's jaw tightened, twitching. _Enough with the memories,_ he

growled to himself mentally, _they make you weak, __ηλίθιος__ (Idiot), and you cannot afford to be weak, especially on this Quest._ And, no, Nico hadn't recovered his memories

from before WWII, thanks to his dip in the Lethe. Nico snapped back to reality and saw the poltergeist on the ground, cowering. He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut,

running a thin, callused hand over his weary features.

"Peeves," he started in a cold voice he'd learned from the private lessons from his Father. Immediately, the ghost started begging for mercy.

"P-Please M-Master, p-please f-f-forgive me, I-I mea-ant y-you no h-harm, i-it was a-a s-simp-ple mis-stake," the ghost wept. Nico fought the urge to roll his eyes and

backhand the spirit across its ugly face. All of a sudden, Nico felt drained, physically and mentally.

"Just," Nico said tiredly, "just go. I don't want to see you around here again, or I will send you to the Fields and I will personally oversee your punishment," he threatened

before the ghost whizzed off, fearful of the Son of Hades changing his mind and being called back.

"What in Merlin's name was that?" Bush-Beaver's voice emitted from behind him.

Fuck.

Nico turned to her and snapped his fingers. A cold ripple blew through the room for the second time within the last 8 hours. Nico stared at the Beaver and said clearly

"You don't remember seeing me here this morning," before he Shadow Travelled out of the room and into the main hall. The portraits all stared at him, muttering to one

another, and he was sorely tempted to flip them the bird, but held back. Opting to walk instead of Shadow Travel, he started wandering down random halls, thinking of his

task. His sources had informed him of one of the seven being destroyed already. He passed students staring and whispering about him, and he glared at the lot of them.

Eventually the crowds dispersed and Nico heard a sort of bell; apparently class was in session. Nico couldn't care less. At least it meant nobody interrupting him in his work.

He didn't even remember climbing the stairs. He came to a stop on a landing with a very odd door. The door had no knob or keyhole, only a bronze, eagle-shaped knocker.

Nico studied the knocker cautiously, expecting it to warp into a monster or to attack him in any way. It didn't. He approached it carefully, reaching up and caressing the

eagle. It reminded him of the 12th Legion's eagle. _What was this place?_ Nico wondered silently. He grasped the eagle firmly, before knocking it once, twice, three times.

Letting go quickly, Nico regarded calmly as the eagle opened its beak and asked

"I am a nightmare for some, yet for others as a saviour I come. What am I?"

Nico frowned, thinking intently. The riddle wasn't hard, really, and he thought of the answer almost immediately.

"You are Death," he replied, and the door opened.

"Well phrased, sir," the eagle chirped as he passed through the doorway. Nico nodded absently and looked around the room he had entered. It was, for a lack of better

terms, impressive. The walls were covered floor to ceiling in bronze and blue – which under further inspection was revealed to be silk. Bookcases, tables, and chairs dotted

the floor plan, and the arched windows were placed at regular intervals around the circular room. The ceiling was high and domed, and appeared to be covered in stars, and

Nico instantly spotted multiple familiar constellations. He saw Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, Orion and The Huntress (which was created in tribute to Zoë Nightshade, a former

Hunter of Artemis). Nico walked around the room, taking note of each and every thing, such as the fact that the bookshelves were stuffed full of old tombs that looked like

they were gathering dust and had been sitting there for over a thousand years, and that the midnight blue carpet matched the design of the ceiling. There was a marble

statue of a woman Nico didn't recognize, next to a staircase leading upwards. As he neared the staircase, he allowed his senses to open up, searching for any life – mortal or

monster – within the vicinity. He felt a presence upstairs, but the presence felt a bit...odd. Of course, this could always be a monster's trick to lure him in. It wasn't

impossible; actually, it was almost certain, what with him having such a powerful aura, being a child of one of the Big Three. He also vaguely remembered his sources telling

him that this world had their own monsters, majority of which would seek him as their next meal. So, with one foot on the steps he pulled out his sword and held the blade in

front of him as he started to ascend the stairs. He went up one, two, three, four flights of stairs, stopping where the pulse of life was emanating the strongest. The door read:

SILRG UTFHOR AREY MDYRIOOTR in bold letters. Well, that probably wasn't what it said – regardless, Nico couldn't read it. The door was open a crack. He nudged it the rest

of the way open with his foot, his stance poised for an attack. What was inside the room, though, was something that shocked him (not that he showed it). He was expecting

a Cyclops with a club or some other Greek beast intent on ripping him to shreds, but a fourteen-year-old girl with radish earrings and an odd cork-bottle chain around her

neck was the least likely thing he'd imagined.

"Oh. Hullo. Just so you know; you're surrounded by Wrackspurts. Is that a sword?"


End file.
